Impatience
by jaxink
Summary: 2007 movieverse: Waiting is a trap. There will always be reasons to wait. The truth is, there are only two things in life, reasons and results, and reasons simply don't count.
1. Waiting

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. Probably never will...okay, I never will.

_A/N: Not beta'd, so feel free to point out my mistakes. First posted these two chapters over on livejournal in the ProwlxJazz community._

* * *

**Impatience**

_Waiting_

The old hangar and surrounding buildings was a dusty, worn military facility when they first arrived in the desert. Since the Mission City battle, every free moment of the Autobot unit's time was spent repairing it and outfitting it to be a fully operational command center. The U.S. Government was quite generous in its donation of the technology and materials they requested. Perks of saving the world…

The Autobot probably most pleased with his new workspace was Ratchet. Ah, to have a proper medbay again! Once construction had been complete on his wing of the base, the medic had set straight to work on repairing their fallen comrade, Jazz. The poor mech, torn in two ruthlessly by Megatron. Ratchet counted himself (and his patient) lucky that the leader of the Decepticons hadn't done worse damage to the saboteur. While he had ripped the silver mech in half, he had only put him into a deep stasis-lock. The abrupt severance of his lower half had sent his systems into failure, but there was no damage to his spark. All that was needed was careful and quick repairs—which Ratchet was perfectly capable of. It had been two Earth months since Ratchet brought Jazz back online, and the Solstice was recovering just fine.

Said mech, however, was currently no where to be found for his weekly check-up. And nothing made Ratchet grouchier than waiting. He had important things to be doing!

Ratchet let out an intake of cool air from his systems, mimicking a human sigh. Pushing away from his desk in the medbay, he decided to find his patient rather than wait for him for another joor. The medic decided to check with Optimus first; after all, he was the one that coordinated their respective schedules and decided who went on patrol and when. He headed down the hallway, turning the corner and knocked on the large door.

"Enter," came the booming voice from within.

The door slid obligingly open, and Ratchet moved forward into Prime's office. Looking up from a data pad, Optimus allowed a smile to form on his face plates. "Ah, Ratchet, what can I do for you?"

Placing his large hands on the Autobot leader's desk and leaning forward, Ratchet said, "Do you happen to know where Jazz is?"

Thinking for a moment, Optimus shook his head. "No, I do not know of his whereabouts at this current time. He got off his surveillance shift quite some time ago."

"Well, he's been keeping me waiting in the medbay to give him a check-up. I can't monitor his progress, Prime, if my patients constantly seem to be forgetting their appointments!" he muttered.

Hiding a smirk at his irritated CMO, Optimus said, "I understand, Ratchet, and I'll be sure to reprimand our fellow officers at our next meeting. However, for now, I suggest you keep looking for him. Perhaps he's out at the firing range. Primus knows that's where Ironhide probably is."

Pushing away from the desk, Ratchet nodded his thanks and left. The firing range was a few miles away from base for safety precautions, of course. They didn't want to have any 'accidents' happening in case the weapon specialist got too trigger-happy during his training sessions. The medic certainly didn't want to put any of his comrades back together again. Once outside, Ratchet noted that the sun had retreated from sight, casting dark over the still desert. Transforming into his Search and Rescue Hummer alt-mode, he sped off in the direction of the firing practice range.

The air felt good against him as he raced along the off-beaten road, the sand and dirt flying up as his tires cut through. Ratchet allowed tension to seep away, trying to release his irritation at the Solstice for worrying him and taking up so much of his time. The medic tried to remind himself he should be grateful Jazz was alive and well enough to not be in his medbay. Still, check-ups were a necessary evil.

Getting lost in his thoughts, the CMO veered sharply to the right as a collection of boulders came bounding down the side of the nearby rock formation, narrowly avoiding being crushed. Rapidly, Ratchet transformed and spun around, weapon ready. He frantically glanced around, trying to identify the source of the rockslide.

To his left, he heard a roaring laugh. "Jeez, Ratch, didn't know you could still move that fast!"

Ratchet lowered his weapon and stood to full height to glare at the approaching weapon specialist. "I'll have you know, you old bucket of bolts, that I am perfectly capable of moving quickly in battle!"

Allowing his own cannons to return to their natural place, hands reappearing, Ironhide put his hands on his hips. "Alright, alright…no need to get cranky."

Huffing, Ratchet looked away. "No one's cranky."

Smirking, Ironhide laughed again. "Right, and I'm a pacifist."

"What in the name of Primus were you doing anyway? You nearly crushed me!"

"Not my fault the calibration of my cannons are off a bit," Ironhide said matter-of-factly. "If you had agreed to have a look at them when I asked, maybe that little rockslide could have been avoided."

"Go ahead, 'Hide, go ahead and try to make this my fault, and you'll find one of your precious cannons missing!" Ratchet threatening.

Holding his hands up, Ironhide frowned. "Don't even joke about that!"

"Very well," Ratchet conceded. Absently flicking dirt off of his armor, he continued. "Have you seen Jazz recently?"

The black mech nodded. "Yeah, he and I were both out here lettin' off some steam. We're gettin' stir crazy on the base. No 'Con activity! No word from any of the others! The base is practically done, so what else is there to do?"

"Other than terrorize me?"

"Yeah, other than that," Ironhide chuckled.

"Then where precisely is he now?"

"He and Bumblebee went off somewhere together. 'Bee wanted a race," the weapon specialist recalled.

Shaking his head in annoyance, Ratchet asked, "Why in the world is Bumblebee here? Where's his human? And do you have any idea where 'somewhere' might be?"

"Possibly. Jazz has been heading out to that cliff that over looks the ravine to the north of here. Maybe he and 'Bee headed there. As for Sam, he's on a trip with his parents, lookin' at colleges or something."

"Thank you for the help," the medic said, then moving to transform once more.

Before speeding off, Ratchet sent over their comm.-link, "And 'Hide?"

"Yeah?"

"Try not to blow yourself up?"

Laughter rang out over Ratchet's end. "Who do I look like? Wheeljack?"

Inwardly quite amused at the comment, the medic left his old friend behind to continue his search for the missing Solstice. Reflecting on what Ironhide had told him, he realized that Jazz had been spending quite a bit of time out near the ravine. What could possibly be so fascinating about a hole in the earth? Unbeknownst to the Ratchet, Jazz wasn't interested in looking at the ground, but at the sky.

* * *

Allowing his internal fans to cool his heated systems down, Jazz remained in his alt-mode, utterly exhausted. When had their 'lil Bumblebee gotten so fast? The sleek Camaro parked next to him was blasting some victory music playfully from his radio. 

Transforming from his Solstice alt-mode, Jazz looked down at the bright yellow sports car in front of him. "Yeah, yeah, show off! You're almost as bad as Sunstreaker, flauntin' it when you win."

The Camaro revved his engine and gently tapped the silver mech's legs. Rolling into reverse, Bumblebee transformed to stand next to his friend. "Sorry, Jazz, I can't help myself. You always used to beat me in races before I left for Earth."

Jazz nodded his head. "Yeah, those were some good times, 'Bee. I still can't believe how much you've grown over the millennia since then. Wasn't sure we when were gonna get ta see you again."

"We all did what was needed for the war, Jazz. This scouting mission just meant I had to be on my own for a while to find the AllSpark. And you all keep saying that! I'm not a youngling anymore, you know."

Placing a hand on the yellow mech's shoulder, the saboteur chuckled. "I know, 'Bee, but you hafta remember, we all practically raised ya from a sparklin'. And no matter how much time goes by…"

Bright blue optics shined in the dark night. "I'm still the youngest."

"But I do gotta say, you've made all of us mighty proud 'o ya…"

The scout straightened up a bit and nodded his thanks. "So what are we doing here, Jazz? You've been coming out here every other night for the last month."

Sitting down along the ledge of the cliff, Jazz let his silver legs dangle, motioning for Bumblebee to join him. A companionable silence lingered between them before the saboteur answered. "I've been waitin'."

"Waiting for what?"

"A sign. Anything…anything that might indicate there's more of us comin' here."

"It's only been three months since Optimus sent out his transmission. In Earth time, that's hardly anything, Jazz. The message might not even reach any Autobots among the stars for quite some time."

"I know that. I just…I'm just impatient is all…"

"True…ow!" Bumblebee whined as Jazz lightly struck him on the arm. Glancing at Jazz after a few more moments of silence, he tentatively asked, "Waiting for anyone in particular?"

Jazz's visor reflected the waning light of the moon as he turned to look at Bumblebee. "Yeah…" he whispered, 'Bee's audio receptors barely able to make out the response.

"Who? If you don't mind me asking…" the scout trailed off.

With a melancholic smile, not quite fitting on the normally jovial mech's face, the Solstice said, "Prowl."

Optics flickering in surprise, the younger mech thought about that for a moment. Optimus' second in command—Prowl? Bumblebee was quite fond of the black and white mech, stern though he was. He had been one of the yellow mech's caretakers back on Cybertron as he grew from sparkling to youngling. He wasn't aware that Jazz and the tactician had any sort of relationship.

"I know what yer thinkin', 'Bee. And no, we weren't together…at least, not in the way ya might think."

Bumblebee's silence invited him to continue. "Prowl 'an me, we've known each other a long, long time—even before the war began. I won't go into our respective pasts, but I will say that we definitely leaned on one 'nother for support more often than not. We were always such good friends…and the thought of becomin' closer had certainly crossed our minds, but slag it if Prowl wasn't too logical for his own good!"

The Camaro nodded, recalling the tactician's no nonsense approach to handling things. That's what made him such a valuable asset to the Autobot cause. "He didn't think it would work out?"

Jazz shrugged, quite liking the human gesture. "I dunno. He never really made that clear. I think it was more that he didn't want there ta be any distractions if we were gonna have a proper relationship. He said if we still felt the same way 'bout one 'nother, then maybe, after the war, we could give it a shot. But then his unit got sent elsewhere to take care of some skirmishes breakin' out between some Neutrals and Decepticons. And I joined up with Optimus' unit not long after. I haven't heard from him since. It's been vorns…I don't even know if he's alive."

The younger mech slung an arm over his companion's shoulders. He felt his spark ache at Jazz's pain. They all had friends and comrades they hadn't seen or heard from in ages. Just because they lived for such a long time, didn't mean they handled any length of separation from each other any better than other organisms. Time apart was still time apart.

"What will you do if he comes to Earth?" Bumblebee asked, curious as to what the saboteur would have to say to the tactician. "And the war's not technically over, just because Megatron's dead. Decepticons are still out there as well. Do you think Prowl would allow a relationship to form between you two, especially after what he said before he left?"

"Hard ta say, 'Bee, but I'm tired of waitin' for this war ta be over. It almost killed me. If Ratchet hadn't been able ta bring me back, I wouldn't have this small chance to tell him how I really feel. I don't care about the possibility we could lose one another. It's a risk worth takin'. Logic and reasons be damned."

Jazz slammed a fist into the ground, immediately eased by the soothing presence of his young friend. "Sorry, 'Bee…"

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Jazz."

"Oh yes he does."

Startled, the two smaller mechs stood and whipped around to face an ornery medic. They hadn't heard Ratchet's approach or transformation, too absorbed in their conversation. Rubbing the back of his helmet, Jazz said, "Oh, hey Ratch! What brings you out here?"

Crossing his arms over his chassis, the CMO tapped his foot impatiently. "Looking for you, you little glitch. You had an appointment for a check-up joors ago!"

Looking at the ground sheepishly, Jazz apologized. "Sorry, musta lost track of time."

Eyeing the younger mechs, Ratchet shuttered his optics in defeat. "Well, it's getting late. I'll let you slide this time. Now back to base, both of you, before I put dents in your afts!"

"Yes, sir!" Bumblebee and Jazz chimed together, immediately transforming, ready to follow the medical officer back through the desert.

With a satisfied nod, Ratchet moved to begin his own transformation sequence only to spot a quartet of shining objects rocketing toward the Earth in the distance. Optics blinking, he sent forth a scan over the area to see if there was a signal being emitted. Bumblebee spoke over his comm.-link. "There a problem, sir?'

"I think those are pods…" Ratchet trailed off, still staring out over the ravine into the night sky, listening.

Surprised at this answer, the scout and saboteur set up their own communications scanners, searching for a signal, a message—anything.

Only to receive nothing.

Ratchet paused, and then contacted their leader. "Optimus, this is Ratchet with Bumblebee and Jazz near the ravine, ten miles north of base."

Responding over the channel, Prime said, "Yes, Ratchet? Is there a problem?"

"We've spotted four possible pods making their descent toward Earth. I estimate their arrival time to be in one Earth hour."

"Have you tracked a signal?" came Ironhide's voice over the open comm.-link line.

"No."

"How far do you project their landing point to be from your current location, Ratchet?" Optimus questioned.

The medic looked to Bumblebee for help, the scout equipped with much better navigational systems. Computing the distance, the Camaro answered, "53 miles, sir."

"Alright then, that should give you plenty of time to reach their projected arrival location. Ratchet, I want you back at base to prepare the medbay if there happen to be any wounded. Besides, if they are Decepticons arriving, I don't want to risk you being there. Bumblebee, Jazz, wait for Ironhide to arrive, then proceed with caution," Optimus ordered.

The Search and Rescue Hummer looked a bit upset at being forced to go back to base, but left his younger companions to wait for the weapon specialist. "Be careful, you two," Ratchet warned before transforming and heading back.

The Solstice and Camaro sat impatiently waiting for the old black mech to arrive. "Do you think they're Autobots, Jazz?"

"Maybe, 'Bee. It's impossible to tell without a signal, so let's jus' hope it is, otherwise it'll be time to wail on some Decepticon punks!"

"Sounds like fun to me," growled Ironhide over the comm.-link as he approached the parked sports cars. "Let's get movin'!"

Bumblebee excitedly revved his engine, as did Jazz, and the trio raced away from the cliff down the winding road to the bottom of the ravine.


	2. Missed You

Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers. Probably never will...okay, I never will.

_A/N: Not beta'd, so feel free to point out my mistakes. Also, I've never written any of the G1 characters introduced in this chapter. If you feel my characterizations are way off, please let me know and offer a suggestion on how to approach it better. Greatly appreciated._

* * *

**Impatience**

_Missed You_

Roaring down the dirt road of the ravine, a Solstice, Camaro, and GMC Topkick made good time as they approached their destination. Coming to a stop with a cloud of dust rising into the air, all three vehicles quieted before transforming. Jazz stretched his arms over his head, allowing his limbs to loosen up. Looking toward the sky, Ironhide searched for the four descending pods. During their travel to the estimated arrival point, they had lost sight of the pods as the sky became littered with clouds, and with no signal being emitted, their whereabouts were unknown.

Snorting, Ironhide said, "I don't see anything. There's nothin' here."

"Maybe we got here earlier than we thought we would?" Jazz offered, watching the sky as well. The silver mech shifted impatiently, anxious to find the pods and greet whoever was in them—whether they be friend or foe.

"Maybe we just made a wrong turn, hm, Bumblebee?" Ironhide said accusingly.

The yellow mech shook his head. "No, my navigational systems are working just fine, thank you. This is where they computed the arrival of the pods to be."

Clenching a fist, the weapon specialist muttered something incoherent. With one more look to the sky, he crouched down and took a seat on the dry ground. "Guess we just sit and wait then."

Jazz and Bumblebee shared a glance and shrugged, moving to join their old comrade to wait. As they did, they heard the sound of a battle breaking out nearby. Jolting to attention, the two smaller mechs whipped their heads toward the noises. Ironhide quickly stood as well, growling. "It's always once I get comfortable…"

"Oh, quit yer grumblin', mech. Let's go check it out!" Jazz twisted in an interesting fashion before transforming and zooming away before his teammates even had a chance to finish their own transformations into their alt modes. He didn't slow as he heard 'Bee and Ironhide fall in behind him.

They continued for a few miles, scenery flashing by. "How were you this far off, Bumblebee?" Ironhide asked over the open comm.-link.

A pout evident in his voice, 'Bee responded, "I don't know! Guess they were further than we thought. My nav. systems are good, but there is always a margin of error."

Jazz laughed. "No need ta get all sore about it, 'Hide. Now quit chattin', let's really get movin'! Someone might need our help."

"Well, ain't you just aching to get there," Ironhide teased good-naturedly.

The Solstice replied, "You bet! Now mute it. That goes fer you, too, 'Bee!"

"I didn't say anything!" the scout protested.

"You were thinkin' it," Jazz accused.

After a rapid five minute drive, which felt like five minutes too long, the trio arrived at the scene of a skirmish. Scattered within a two mile radius, four large holes were entrenched deep into the earth, dirt and dust still rising. Engaged in battle in front of them were four unidentified mechs, well, actually, only two of the mechs were fighting, while another was hunched over an injured one, assumedly trying to provide cover and protection.

Jazz called to the two mechs off to the side of the fighting duo. "Hey! Who goes there 'an all that?"

Head whipping around at the sound of an outside voice, the mech performing repairs stood in a defensive posture over his companion. Alarmed at the sudden appearance of these three new strangers, he took a few steps forward. Brandishing his weapon, he called out, "Who are you? Identify!"

Ironhide stepped forward, charging his own cannons, unsure if they were facing a fellow Autobot or a Decepticon. "Take it easy, we don't wanna have any accidents. Autobots—designations Ironhide, Jazz, and Bumblebee. Your turn."

Optics flooding with relief, he lowered his weapon. "Autobot First Aid. Are we glad to see you!"

Jazz ran forward and gave the medic in training a once over, taking note of many dings and scratches. "Good ta see ya, too, man! Looks like you took a beatin'."

First Aid nodded and crouched back down next to his injured companion. "We all did. Blue here got hit before we even landed." Bumbleebee took up a stance of protection, with his cannon ready, in front of the small group-just in case some shots got past the melee going on nearby.

"Bluestreak? Poor mech," Jazz murmured. "Who's with ya?"

"That's Sides over there wailing on some Decepticon youngling. He followed us once we left our ship in space," First Aid responded without looking, trying to patch lines leaking energon on the offlined Bluestreak's limp arm.

Ironhide grunted. "Great, just who we need here. If Sideswipe's here, I assume Sunstreaker isn't far?"

"You assume correctly, he's—" First Aid was cut off by an angry, frustrated Sideswipe.

"I could use a little help here! This fraggin' glitch won't go down!"

"I'll help 'im," the weapon specialist said happily, running to join him, cannons firing.

Shaking their heads, Jazz and Bumblebee chuckled. First Aid looked up at them with a questioning look. "What's so funny?"

"Let's just say, Ironhide has been going a little stir crazy lately," 'Bee offered, glancing back at them.

Nodding, First Aid subspaced his tools. "That's all I can do for him here. Please tell me you have a competent medic with you?"

Jazz crossed his arms and smiled. "Heh, yeah. He's competent. And you'll finally get ta finish yer trainin'!"

Optics blinking, First Aid asked, "You mean Ratchet's here?"

"Of course, didn't ya know he was here with us, 'specially since we're all part o' Prime's unit? He's back at base."

Thinking for a moment, allowing his processors to catch up with him, the medic said, "Yes, I suppose I did. It's just been so long."

Bumblebee interrupted the conversation. "Think Ironhide and Sideswipe need help?"

All three mechs turned to look at their fellow Autobots failing time and time again to get a direct hit on the evading seeker. "Nah, he's jus' playin' chicken. They'll get him."

Shooting off another round of fire, Ironhide paused as his processors alerted him to an approaching Decepticon signature. "We've got another 'Con coming to play!"

The yellow scout's optics brightened in recognition of the approaching Decepticon. "Barricade…"

"Ya want this one, 'Bee?" Jazz graciously offered.

"If you don't mind, of course," 'Bee said, systems humming in anticipation as the police cruiser approached.

"After you, please. I insist."

"You're too kind, Jazz." And with that, Bumblebee launched himself at his long-time opponent before he had a chance to skid to a stop. They began to exchange fire and blows.

First Aid and Jazz turned their heads from that engagement to see Ironhide place a direct hit to the seeker's wing. As it began descending, Sideswipe leapt into the air, grabbed the seeker's other wing and swung the massive machine to the ground with a resounding crunch. Allowing his cannons to retreat into his arms, Ironhide grinned. "Nice job, Sides."

"Took you long enough to get a good shot off, bucket of bolts," Sideswipe teased in a mocking fashion.

"Go ahead, hurl another insult at a superior again and then we'll see who's scrap metal," the weapon specialist shot back.

"Yeah, yeah. So who we got here, huh?" the brash mech asked, walking toward First Aid and Bluestreak.

First Aid obligingly answered. "Believe or not, Sideswipe, we actually managed to land where we needed to, close to Optimus' unit. Ironhide, Jazz, Ratchet, and Bumblebee."

Sideswipe stood stunned for a moment. "You mean that mech over there—right there, beating the slag out of Barricade—is little 'Bee?"

Jazz nodded. "Yup, not so 'lil anymore, is he?"

Still in a state of disbelief, Sideswipe returned his attention to the mechs in front of him. "Guess not. Hey, Jazz, been a long time. And Hatchet's here? Awesome. Me and Sunny can finally have some fun again!" He rubbed his hands together with glee.

"Don't go pissin' Ratchet off the second you see him. He's been pretty cranky the last few days," Ironhide warned.

Waving his hands in front of him, the bright red mech said, "Nah, he'll be glad to see us. And we'll pick up where we left off bugging him..." Looking down, he noted his various scuffs and dents with distaste. "…after he fixes me, of course."

Anxious once more, Jazz asked, "Anyone else in yer unit? Ya can't let us believe you, Sunny, and Blue were all unsupervised in a unit together."

Pretending to be insulted, Sides said, "Hey, we're perfectly capable of handling ourselves. But you're right. Elita would never let us leave Cybertron without someone keeping tabs on us. She assigned Prowl to be our commander, not long after your unit went after the AllSpark."

Jazz felt his spark pulse at the mention of the tactician's designation. "That so? Poor Prowl, havin' to put up with yer shenanigans," he said with a laugh.

"Yeah, poor Prowl…please. He has no sense of humor! It was hilarious when me and Blue glued his data pads to the ceiling in his quarters. But did he think it was funny? Noooo."

Ironhide put his hands on his hips. "Prowl is a much more patient mech than me, that's for sure."

A resounding roar sliced through their conversation as Barricade quickly transformed and sped away from the young scout he was previously battling. "Yeah, go ahead and drive away! Coward!" yelled Bumblebee after his opponent, weapon powering down.

Sideswipe laughed and clapped the smaller mech on his back, careful of his door wings. "You run that piece of slag off, 'Bee?"

Blue optics looking up at the red mech, Bumblebee said, "He never finishes a fight with me. It's like he's toying with me—I think he enjoys riling up my processors. Besides, he probably figured it wasn't worth fighting since his friend over there is scrap now, thanks to you and Ironhide."

"Alright, enough chit-chat. We gotta get back and report to Prime. And Blue here needs Ratchet's attention. Let's transform and get outta this place," Ironhide cut in.

First Aid made a noise of agreement from his vocal processor. "Yes, Bluestreak is stable, but needs these repairs as soon as possible."

"What about the others in yer unit? Where are Prowl and Sunny?" Jazz questioned.

"They'll be along in a few joors, I imagine," First Aid said. "They were leaving our ship in a secure location, not far outside of this planet's solar system."

"Alright then, here's the plan. Bumblebee, you need to see Ratchet for any repairs?"

"No, sir."

"Good. You stay out here and wait for Prowl and Sunstreaker, then escort them back to base. The rest 'o ya, we're headin' back," Ironhide instructed.

First Aid and Sideswipe transformed into their Earth acquired alt modes, a modified ambulance and Lamborghini, respectively. Jazz let out a whistle at Sides' vehicle choice as he helped Ironhide load Bluestreak into the back of First Aid. "Someone has attention issues."

Over the comm.-link, Sideswipe just cheekily said, "Hey, it's the only thing I could find on this internet thing that seemed...genuinely fun."

If Ironhide could roll his optics, he would have. Transforming, he and Jazz lead the way back to base, leaving Bumblebee in the field to wait for their other companions. The strange caravan of vehicles began to drive away, but the Solstice stayed a moment longer, pausing. A voice startled him out of his reverie. "Jazz, go on. Don't worry, they'll be here soon."

"Heh, I know, 'Bee," Jazz said with a chuckle and revved his engine before zipping away to catch up with the others.

* * *

Back at base, Optimus waited patiently for Ironhide to return with the arrivals. During his brief communication with the Autobot leader, all the weapon specialist had said was they had three new Autobots with them, one injured. He had relayed the information to Ratchet, who currently stood next to him tapping a foot impatiently. Optimus gave a side glance to his antsy CMO.

"Ratchet, they'll arrive shortly. No need to fret," the commander murmured.

Realizing what he was doing, Ratchet let out an intake of air from his systems. "Of course, you're right. 'Hide would have said if the mech's injuries were life-threatening."

"Perhaps they have a medic with them," Optimus suggested.

Nodding absently, the medical officer said, "That is a possibility. And it would be a welcome addition to our team here on Earth. I can't handle the repairs of everyone by myself, especially once more Autobots begin to arrive."

"Well, that's a—ah, here they are," Optimus paused, observing the approach of a short line of vehicles. He recognized his weapon specialist's truck alt-mode, as well as his lieutenant's silver sports car, but the white and red emergency vehicle was new and the bright red sports car was clearly not the familiar yellow Camaro of his scout.

Ironhide pulled up, transforming with the rest of those accompanying him, save for the emergency vehicle. "Prime, give me a hand with Bluestreak. First Aid's got 'im in the back of his alt mode."

Quickly, Optimus followed Ironhide to the back of the ambulance, and they carefully lifted the offline gunner and carried him into the awaiting med bay within the base. Ratchet moved to follow them, pausing when First Aid called after him.

"Sir, will you need my help?" the other medic asked.

The CMO placed a hand on First Aid's shoulder as they walked along the corridor to the medbay. Ratchet was quite pleased to see his old student. "No, take a rest for now. Later, once I've patched up Bluestreak, you and I may catch up."

First Aid nodded and watched the retreating figures of Prime, Ironhide, and Ratchet into the medbay. Running up behind him, Sideswipe threw an arm over his shoulder. "Aw, frag! Ratchet didn't even say hi to me!"

Deftly moving the warrior's arm off his shoulder, First Aid laughed. "Don't be too sore, Sideswipe. You'll have your turn with him once Blue's alright."

"I suppose you're right. Maybe Sunny'll be here by then. That way, we can greet him together!" Sideswipe said excitedly.

With another tired laugh, First Aid said, "I don't know about you, but I need a good long recharge."

From behind them, Jazz offered, "There's some empty rooms around the corners with recharge berths, if you'd like ta rest."

First Aid nodded gratefully. "That would be wonderful, thank you." The medic waved goodbye to the saboteur and single twin before turning the corner to blissfully recharge after a long evening.

Jazz looked after him distractedly, staring off into space. Sideswipe waved his hands in front of the smaller mech's face, disliking being ignored. "Hey Jazz!"

Coming out of his daze, Jazz shook his head. "Sorry, just thinkin'."

"Show me around this place?" Sides asked, looking for a way to distract him.

"Sure, follow me!" Jazz answered happily. He led Sideswipe through various parts of their developing base, ending in the outside entrance of the hangar.

As they completed their tour, Ironhide joined them.

Jazz inquired after Bluestreak's condition. "How's he doin', 'Hide?"

"He'll be fine. Ratch just finished the repairs, and he's in recharge now. Where's First Aid?"

"Also in recharge," Jazz said. As they stood there, they turned at the sound of Optimus approaching them.

"Hello, sir!" Sideswipe waved, greeting the Autobot leader.

Nodding, Prime returned the hello. "Good to see you, Sideswipe. Ironhide mentioned Prowl and your twin will be joining us soon. I assume you came here once receiving my transmission."

"That's right. We received it not long ago and set our ship's course for this planet."

"Were you on a mission at the time?"

"Not really. We were sort of aimlessly patrolling space looking for stray Decepticon squads. We lost contact with Elita One and Cybertron a few vorns ago, once our ship's communication systems were damaged in an attack. We were able to receive close transmissions, but not distant ones. And we couldn't send transmissions. We were lucky we were close enough to receive yours."

"Any other problems along your journey?"

"Not anything major, but once Prowl arrives, I'm sure he'll be able to give a more than detailed report."

"Of course, Prowl is quite thorough in his reports," Optimus recalled fondly. "Ah, but this isn't why I came out here. Ironhide, I received a communication from Captain Lennox. He talked with the Secretary of Defense and needs to write up reports on our new arrivals. I would like you to go pick him up and bring him back to base."

"No problem," the weapon specialist responded, transforming before leaving to retrieve the human he often worked with.

"What's a Captain Lennox?" Sides asked curiously.

Prime laughed. "Not a what—a who. Captain Lennox is a human friend."

"Human? Oh, you mean the little squeaky creatures that inhabit this planet?"

Jazz said, "Yeah, sorta."

"Well, I'll be in my office, if either of you need me. Please notify me when Bumblebee returns with Prowl and Sunstreaker, Jazz."

"Of course."

The looming mech left them alone once more. Jazz let loose a cycle of air, optics searching in the dark for any sign of returning vehicles. His actions didn't go unnoticed by his companion.

"You know, he missed you, too."

Startled, the silver mech asked, "What?"

"Prowl. He missed you. He'd never admit it though," Sideswipe commented.

"Then how do ya know?"

"Pft. It's obvious. Elita told us before we went out as a unit that you were with Prime. When he heard Optimus' message, we couldn't get here fast enough. You start to learn things about mechs when you're stuck with them in space for so long."

"Tell meh about it. But ya know, he coulda jus' wanted ta get here ta help Prime."

"Jazz, I'm not stupid. Trust me. He missed you."

Their argument ended as the sound of growling engines cut through the silent night, rapidly approaching them. The roar of the engines was accompanied by the blaring sound of sirens behind them. A Camaro and golden Lamborghini came to an abrupt halt as a Mustang police vehicle nearly identical to Barricade cut them off. The sirens quieted and the mech transformed. He stood to full height and proceeded to do one of the things he does best—lecture.

"Sunstreaker, next time you take off like that while I'm talking to you, I promise even Ratchet won't be able to put you together again. And for the love of Primus, don't corrupt Bumblebee in the process. The last thing his impressionable processors need is a role model like you or Sideswipe."

The sound of the black and white mech's voice made Jazz's spark sing. Prowl.

Transforming while they were being scolded, 'Bee snickered and Sunny just smirked. Hands on his hips, the tactician's door wings twitched in irritation. "Very funny. Go find something constructive to do."

Sides ran up to his twin and gave him a hit to his head. "Hey! What was that for?" Sunstreaker said with a scowl, giving his brother a shove.

"No irritating Prowl without me! You know that! Now let's go ask Ratchet to fix us. He's done repairing Blue, and I haven't had a chance to give him a proper greeting."

"Sounds like a plan," Sunstreaker said. "I've already got organic slag all in my gears from this stupid dirtball planet." The twins disappeared into base.

Prowl looked at the chuckling scout. "I meant what I said…don't let them corrupt you, please. Those two and Bluestreak are enough to keep me busy."

Bumblebee pretended to look hurt by his comment. "Prowl, you say that like I get into trouble all the time."

"When you were a sparkling, you copied everything those three did when they were younglings."

"Don't worry, Prowl. The only bad influence 'lil 'Bee has here is me," Jazz said, making his presence known.

The tactician whipped around, stunned for a moment, before calming his features once more. "I didn't see you there, Jazz. Are you well?"

"Yeah, thanks. And yerself?"

"My processors are still recovering from being around the twins for so long, but I think I'll be alright."

The saboteur smiled. "Yeah, they do that to a mech."

'Bee glanced excitedly between his two superiors that seemed to have forgotten he was still there. He was happy Jazz wouldn't have to wait any longer to tell Prowl about his feelings. Though, for him to do so, he supposed he should leave the Solstice and Mustang alone. Clearing his throat, he said, "Um, I'll go tell Optimus we've returned. I'm sure he won't mind if you wait on giving a report, Prowl."

Prowl protested immediately. "No, I should provide him with an up-to-date account of my unit's recent encounters and actions."

The silver mech tried to pacify his old friend, returning the tactician's glowing blue eyes to his own form. "Take it easy, Prowl. Ya been here less than one Earth hour. It can wait. Poor First Aid is already in recharge. Yer all tired. Bumblebee can talk ta Prime."

Still looking at the visored-mech in front of him, Prowl tiredly conceded, "Very well. Tell him I'll be along shortly, at least. Thank you, Bumblebee."

The Camaro nodded obligingly and smiled as he entered the base.

Jazz slowly stepped forward, hesitating only a moment before bringing up a hand to caress the side of Prowl's face. The tactician offlined his optics at the touch, placing his own hand over his. The silver mech smiled. "I missed ya, Prowl."

Turning his optics back on, the black and white mech whispered, "I…I missed you, too, Jazz."

The pair of officers walked away from the base down the path a bit, feeling as if they needed to get away for a moment. As they walked, Jazz startled Prowl by grabbing his hand once more. He gave the saboteur's hand an affectionate squeeze. Jazz stopped short at the pressure on his hand.

Not quite feeling like his normally smooth self, Jazz struggled for something to say. Prowl saved him from that task by saying, "Would you like to go for a drive?"

Jazz nodded. "Yeah, I would."

At the entrance of the base, a yellow scout smiled as he watched the Solstice and Mustang drive slowly down the road side by side. Bumblebee turned to go back inside and go report to Optimus for real this time.


End file.
